


tears and pain, but I feel celestial

by candypinklouis



Series: Sub Harry [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Harry, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candypinklouis/pseuds/candypinklouis
Summary: “I don’t know what you’re giving me that look for,” Louis says. “You know what the rules are and you purposefully chose to disobey them, disobey me. This is your fault, not mine.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Sub Harry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599739
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	tears and pain, but I feel celestial

**Author's Note:**

> whew! what absolute filth omg! I should be working on a relatively fluffy ABO fic but I did this instead lol! hopefully formatting isn't too weird, I did post this on mobile. And on the Ides of March as well!!
> 
> title is from shampain by MARINA. 
> 
> enjoy!

When Louis enters the room, he shuts the door firmly; not as hard as a slam, but enough to make noise, enough to get his anger across. He sits heavily on the bed, loosens his tie. Eventually he turns to consider the boy in the corner.

“I don’t know what you’re giving me that look for,” Louis says. “You know what the rules are and you purposefully chose to disobey them, disobey me. This is your fault, not mine.”

Harry’s shoulders sag a little but his eyes still have a fierce look in them. He’s on his knees in the corner of the room, completely naked with a ball gag strapped around his head. Spit is already dripping from his mouth, and his cock is half hard, sticking out in front of him. 

“Come here,” Louis says, finally. He sits on the bed, still in his trousers and button up, legs spread. He tuts when Harry gets to his feet. “Did I say stand up?”

Harry scowls but drops back down to his knees and crawls between Louis’ legs. He kneels, hands clasped behind his back and spine straight. Perfect form.

Louis traces the edge of Harry’s jaw and Harry’s eyelashes flutter a bit at the touch.

“What a shame,” Louis announces. “We could be having so much fun right now, couldn’t we, baby? I would have stretched you out so good with my fingers, first. Then I would have fucked you. I was going to let you choose the position and everything.” He grins when Harry whines. “Maybe I would have even ridden you.”

Harry’s hips jolt forward into the air as if he’s already imagining Louis on top of him. 

Louis sighs loudly like he’s thinking about it too. He gives Harry a little slap on the cheek. “But you just couldn’t keep your pretty little mouth shut. Do you regret that?”

They both know he does.

“I wish I could just let you off the hook,” Louis says. “Just this once. But I don’t want you thinking you can get away with this shit all the time.” His voice raises. “Do I tolerate brats, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head.

“No, I don’t,” Louis says softly, dangerous. “But that’s what you’ve been acting like lately. And there is no way—” He delivers a harsher slap to the other side of Harry’s face. “—that I am going to let that continue.”

Harry cries out weakly, both out of shame and hurt.

Louis is indifferent. "Get up," he snaps. "I don't feel sorry for little boys who disrespect me."

Legs wobbling, Harry stands, taking a step backwards so Louis can get up as well. He's afraid of what's to come, but excited too, pulse quickening. The anticipation makes him shiver.

“I think I’m going to put you—“ Louis guides Harry to the center of the room with firm hands on his hips. “Right here.” His breath tickles the back of Harry’s neck. 

“Hands by your sides, Harry,” Louis orders, so Harry clenches his fists at his side, drops his head, and keeps his back straight. He knows what to do.

Louis leaves the room but comes back a minute later holding something in his hand. It's slightly dark in the room and the object in question is half hidden behind his thigh. He closes the door carefully and makes his way back over to Harry, standing behind him.

Anxious, Harry pivots and tries to turn around, get a look at either Louis or what's in his hand. 

"Stop," Louis says firmly. He pushes Harry's shoulder back into place. Then his voice drops to a whisper in Harry's ear. "Stamp twice if you need out, okay? Do it now if you understand."

He follows the order.

"Okay."

Harry twitches apprehensively. 

"No, don't stand like that. Your knees are locked and that's going to stop your blood flow."

He says it brusquely, but with care. Harry's heart swells despite the circumstances.

There's a soft brush on his lower back, what feels like strings being dragged across his skin. His breath catches when he realizes what it is.

A flogger.

A toy they'd only used twice before, harsh and punishing.  _ A toy, _ Harry thinks bitterly.  _ It's hardly fun. _ (But of course it is. He fucking loves it.)

He can picture it: all black and leather. Solid handle with thick straps coming from the end. Brutal.

Suddenly, there's a hard hit landed on his left thigh. He gasps out a hurt noise, and before he can take in another breath, two more come, landing in the same spot. Louis rubs his hand over the blooming redness and digs his fingernails in. Harry tries not to squirm when Louis whips him again, in a series of light taps and strong strikes, all the way up his back.

He jerks, flinching.

Louis is in no doubt smirking. "Does that hurt, baby?"

Harry whimpers.

"Oh  _ come on, _ pretty boy. I know you can take more than that."

The next few happen fast, impact sharp and then igniting with abrupt heat and pain. He starts to cry earnestly, body on fire.

"Shh, easy, easy," Louis tells him, stroking over his shoulder blade.

Harry only cries harder at that. His face is a mess: saliva drips off of his chin and new tears cover older tear stains. He’s flushed crimson, sweat trickling down the side of his head. He lets his head drop, sniffling and staring at the floor.

Louis quickly reaches around so he can fit a hand around his throat and jerk his jaw back up. "I don't think I'm asking too much from you," he says silkily. "Just stay still and take it."

Harry feels a few more light whips on his bum, delicate and less harsh than the impact he was feeling before; he knows Louis is taking pity on him and gratefully accepts the change in pace. 

Louis likes to tease him, taking time between each hit so that Harry doesn't know when to expect it, tense and sweating. Then he'll do a rapid succession of hits, fast and hard and absolutely unforgiving. He changes it up every time. It's infuriating.

Now, though, Louis holds the flogger with one hand and pulls the tassels back with the other like a slingshot. He delivers a hard whack to the back of Harry’s thighs and it’s all Harry can do not to scream. He gives a wrecked little shriek and one of his feet startles forward, trying to get away even though he knows to stay put.

“No,” Louis barks. He’s angry. “Get that foot  _ back _ , Harry.”

Harry sniffles and steps back.

“Do you even  _ want  _ to redeem yourself?” Louis asks. “You’ve been bad, and here we are trying to fix your behavior. But it doesn’t seem like you want to try.”

_ I am,  _ Harry tries to say.  _ I am trying.  _ But Louis just shakes his head. “I’ve trained you,” he says. “I know you know what to do. And I know you can be my good boy because I’ve seen you do it. Why are you resisting today?”

_ I can’t help it! _ Harry responds, but of course it comes out garbled and unintelligible. Fresh, hot tears leak from his eyes. 

“I’m going to have to tie you up next time,” Louis says quietly, more to himself than anything. His voice turns firm again. “Stay still. I'm not going to ask you again.” 

Harry takes a deep breath in and braces himself, ready for the hits to start. They come back harder, ranging from his lower thighs up to his shoulders. He whimpers through it all, losing track of time. Finally, Louis comes back around so they're facing each other.

Harry looks to Louis' face eagerly. It's a little bit of a relief to see him again. 

Louis smiles at him, but whips his chest lightly, then trails it downwards. The tassels graze the tip of Harry’s cock, and it jerks with excitement. 

“Oh, look at this,” Louis coos as if he’s just noticed Harry’s hard dick. “Maybe you’re taking this punishment a little  _ too  _ well, sweetheart.”

_ I’m not!  _ Harry wants to shout. Sure, half of him gets off on it, but at the same time the flogger  _ hurts _ . Too many hits make him cry, and the marks will smart for days afterwards.

“Do you want to come?” Louis asks, and he smiles cruelly when Harry tries to say something through the gag. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Harry closes his eyes and Louis snickers at him. Harry shifts where he stands. He’s almost positive it’s one of Louis’ tricks. He nods once anyway.

“Alright,” Louis says quietly, and he fits a hand over Harry’s cock and pulls upward once, roughly. Harry lets out a surprised whine, biting down on his gag. Spit drips down from his chin and lands on his chest. Louis keeps stroking him slowly, taking time to spread the gathered mess of precome over his shaft so that the glide of his little hand is smoother, more pleasurable. 

Harry groans lowly, his breath coming shallow. He hates how much he gets off on it, especially when it hurts so bad, he  _ knows  _ it does. Louis' laughed at him for that too, only when they're playing, of course, calling Harry a  _ perverted freak  _ and  _ masochistic whore. _ Both of which are true.

He yelps when Louis tweaks the head of his cock. It makes it twitch, but Louis keeps a firm hold and chuckles a little bit. "Oh my," he says. "Just can't get enough of it, can you?"  __

Harry moans aloud. He's going to come soon, he knows it. With Louis whispering dirty things into his ear, the marks from the flogger red on his skin, and the measured strokes to his cock.

He whimpers, looking to where Louis is jerking him off. His breath hitches as he feels his orgasm curl in his belly. He can feel his back start to arch, closing his eyes and gasping--

Louis abruptly stops moving, hand going still and tight around the base of Harry's cock.

Harry opens his eyes and tries to see through his tears.

He finally manages to focus on Louis standing in front of him. Harry frowns when Louis lets go of his cock entirely. 

Louis smiles slowly when they make eye contact. “Oh baby, did you think I was serious?” 

Harry wants to fucking scream. Louis had always been a nasty little tease and that was never going to change. 

Louis outright laughs at Harry’s thunderous expression and smacks Harry’s dick.

Harry wails into his gag and his legs tremble, but he’s sure to stay where he is. His cock jerks like it can’t decide to get harder or turn soft.

“Bad boys don’t get to come,” Louis tells him. “You should have been expecting that.”

All he gets is a reproachful glare in response. Louis just smirks. He pulls the flogger back so he can whack Harry's lower belly, getting closer and closer until he finally lands a light strike directly to Harry's dick.

Harry can't think. Can't form a single coherent thought. All he can do is cry harder.

“Hey, hey, I’ll give you a break,” Louis tells him, though there’s still a shadow of a laugh in his voice. “For real this time.” 

He  _ is  _ honest this time, smoothing his hands across Harry’s shoulders and down his back. He strokes over Harry’s neck to his chest delicately, cool hands soothing the pain. He pushes Harry’s sweaty hair off of his forehead and wipes at the tears underneath his eyes.

Harry opens them and gazes at Louis desperately. 

“Yes, honey, we’re almost done,” Louis murmurs, reading his mind.

Harry’s legs ache from standing in the same position for so long, shoulders tense for the same reason. The marks from the flogger sting. His jaw is stretched and sore. His whole body burns. 

And even worse than that, he misses Louis. His bright little sunflower. He loves Louis any way he is, but right now he just wants to curl up with his head on Louis’ lap and make him laugh, see Louis’ beautiful smile. 

The last few hits are the hardest, based on sound, but he almost doesn't feel them, too dazed and fuzzy. 

“Alright, it’s over,” Louis says finally. He drops the flogger to the ground and tenderly runs a hand through Harry’s hair. “Good boy.” He unbuckles the gag from around his head and carefully removes the ball from Harry’s mouth. A flood of saliva immediately spills down his chin, but Harry isn’t thinking about that. The first thing he does is say “Louis.” His throat hurts from all of his muffled screams and his voice comes out croaky and deep. “Louis.”

“Baby,” Louis says. He carefully wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and hugs him tightly. “Baby, you did so well.”

And fuck if Harry hasn’t cried enough tonight, because he starts crying at that too. Louis pulls back and covers his face with little kisses. “You  _ did _ ,” he repeats. “So good. That was hard. I was really tough. And you still handled it so well. I'm proud of you.” 

“My, my Louis,” Harry sobs, grasping Louis’ biceps and trying to burrow into his chest. “Lou.”

“I’m here.”

Harry tries to ruck up Louis’ shirt so he can feel him skin to skin and makes a frustrated noise when he can’t get it. Louis gently pushes his hands out of the way so he can fumble for the buttons himself. He shrugs the shirt off and takes Harry into his arms again.

Harry whimpers when he tries to shift closer and his leg brushes against Louis’ trouser-clad one.

“It hurts, I know it does,” Louis says softly. “I got you some cream.”

Harry kisses him then, desperate with love and gratitude. It’s clumsy but well-intentioned and Louis indulges him for a moment before pulling back.

“Come on.” Louis tugs on his hand, still so gentle. “Let’s clean you up.”

Harry lumbers after him, exhausted and heavy on his feet. “I wanna sit down.”

“You can.” Louis offers him a sympathetic look.

But as soon as Harry sits down on the closed toilet seat, he’s jumping right back up and yelping all while Louis nods knowingly. “I thought that might be the case.” He’s got a jar of cooling cream in one hand, some of it already dabbed on his finger. “I’ll make this as fast as possible. Turn around, honey.”

Harry turns around and lets him spread the cream over his bruises with delicate fingers. The marks go all the way from his shoulders to his thighs, varying in length and severity. It soothes him, taking some of the pain away. Louis is quick but deliberate in his motions, and soon he's turning Harry back around with steadying hands on his waist when Harry starts to lose his balance.

He takes a washcloth and wets it with warm water, wiping up the mess of precome off of Harry’s belly and cock. Then he rinses it out and uses it to mop underneath Harry’s arms and the back of his neck, getting the worst of the sweat. Finally, Louis puts the rag underneath cold water so he can clean Harry’s face of spit and tears. He kisses him once before doing the same treatment, carefully swiping the jelly over Harry’s skin.

When he's done, Louis caps the jar and washes his hands. Then he says, "come on," in the same soft voice, and leads Harry back into the bedroom. He takes a pair of boxer briefs and helps Harry into them, sliding them up his legs, deliberate in the way he avoids brushing against any bruises.

“These will feel better in the morning,” Louis says. “You know that. Then we can take a shower and you’ll be nice and clean again.”

"I'm tired," Harry tells him. 

"Good thing it's bedtime." 

He pulls back the bed covers so Harry can crawl underneath them, Harry only wincing a bit at the slight scratchiness of sheets against his skin. He feels more lucid than he has all night, even as he lets Louis fit the blankets back around his body. Then Louis turns away.

"Where are you going?" 

Louis turns back slightly at Harry's voice. "I have to…" he trails off and gestures to the toys still on the floor, even though he's never been one to care about cleaning up. 

Harry frowns. "Louis…" 

"Yeah?" His voice cracks. 

Harry struggles to sit up. "Come here."

Louis wipes hastily under his eyes and sits next to him on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"Are  _ you? _ " Harry asks. "Louis, what's wrong?"

"It's just—" he sniffles. "I hurt you."

Harry's startled. "And I loved it. I thought we both, like, got off on it."

"I do. I just can't stand to see you hurt, and the fact that I did it—" 

"No, Louis," he grabs Louis' hand. "I like getting hit like that. I like it when you have control over me. It's a good hurt." 

"I know. I know. You're just hurt so badly, and it gets to me sometimes. You're okay, right?" Tears are falling steadily down Louis' face. "I didn't go too far, did I?" 

Harry shakes his head. "I promise I'd tell you. But you're always perfect. Louis, I'm okay, I'm more than okay. I love doing stuff like this." 

Louis lets out a shuddery breath, and manages to smile weakly. "I do too."

"Lay down with me," Harry tells him.

So Louis takes off his trousers and crawls underneath the covers so that he's pressed against Harry's side. "I'm going to take such good care of you tomorrow," he tells him. "Such a good boy tonight. You always are. I'll let you come as much as you want."

The quiet promises soothe them both to drowsiness, and they fall asleep like that, Louis' mouth still pressed to Harry's temple. 

(Tomorrow, Harry will wake up to Louis sucking him off, still such a tease, going slow and keeping him on the brink; but it's worth it when Louis lets him come in his mouth and he swallows it all.)


End file.
